


Carving Pumpkins, Making Memories

by AGeekCalledTLC



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGeekCalledTLC/pseuds/AGeekCalledTLC
Summary: The Hallowed Day has always been Brienne's favourite holiday - even layered around hardships and tragedy, she still makes time for her family traditions. One tragedy too many however takes her to the brink of not celebrating and it's down to Jaime to step in in and take matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 16
Kudos: 56





	Carving Pumpkins, Making Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello...very long time and no speak. It's been like a year and a half since I posted on here last - not trying to make excuses but last year it was down to having too much on my agenda and this year...well as you can probably gather, there has been nothing on my agenda (much like everyone else) but still, I haven't had the energy, the brain power or the writing bug to muster anything.
> 
> For anyone waiting on an update on One Knock and a Coffee Later - I am truly sorry for not updating in so long. I have finally started a new chapter but the gusto for it is still not completely there unfortunately. I will hopefully have some brainwaves soon, but I'm afraid you'll still be waiting a while yet.
> 
> In the meantime, a little inspiration did come to me fleetingly for this (not so little) one-shot. The Hallowed Day is of course based around Halloween (a holiday which I particularly love and much rather over Christmas if I'm completely honest) - I was hoping to have it finished days ago, but there you have it and at least it's still holiday appropriate. It's not perfect to be honest, but given the length of time since I've last written something, I thought I'd post it anyway, so please be gentle and do excuse any errors. 
> 
> There's no particular warnings, however there is the tiniest mentions of rape, but it's literally mentioned briefly once, which is why there's no official archived warnings.
> 
> As always, GoT is not owned by me, nor will it ever be. Enjoy!

* * *

Out of all the holidays, The Hallowed Day was Brienne's favourite. From as far back as she could remember, everything about it appealed to her – which wasn't surprising in the slightest, as she always knew she was just a little different to everyone else – and every year she looked forward to it, no matter what the days, weeks and months surrounding it were like.

The Hallowed Day originated hundreds of years prior in the Free City of Braavos by those who followed the Many-Faced God. Although the Faceless Men (as they liked to call themselves) had no know other known acts of worship, preferring instead to take the lives of others as an offering to their God (because in the end, death was inevitable and it was their 'job' to take those lives to end suffering), The Hallowed Day was the one day of the year where they would remember and pay tribute to those who's they had taken in order to welcome them over to The Other Side. 

Of course, like many other things, the holiday was taken way out of proportion when it was heard wind of in Westeros and became an overly commercialised holiday. Not only was it celebrated by those who didn't follow the religion, people put up decorations and made traditions such as turning pumpkins into Jaqen Lanterns, along with donning costumes and masks in order to 'disguise' themselves, just as the Faceless Men did. It was pretty senseless when one thought about it, but Brienne didn't care, she thrived on it anyway.

At a very young age, before she understood the cruelty of people, Brienne was fascinated by the oranges and greens of the lights and tinsel and all the funny little figurines that people dressed their homes in. She also revelled in carving the traditional Jaqen Lantern with her mother, father and brother Galladon (even though though the memories were distant and she barely remembered her mother). It was only much later, when was ridiculed on a daily basis, that she found an odd sort of comfort in the holiday. She was able to absorb herself in the build-up and once it came around, it was the one day of the year where she didn't feel completely out of place because everyone else would make themselves look different too. 

When her mother died giving birth to her baby sister, the small family would still celebrate the holiday (though the mood was a little more sombre) and carve Jaqen Lanterns to place on their graves, as a mark of respect and a way to let them know that they were always in their thoughts. When Galladon died, an extra lantern was carved and from then on, Brienne and her father started an extra tradition. They bought copious amounts of food – popcorn, crisps, nachos, candy, chocolate – and spent the evening watching horror movies. Since she was only eight when Galladon passed, the movies started as just mild (her father wasn't completely barbaric), but as she grew, so did the movie ratings. Sometimes they wore costumes, sometimes they didn't. It wasn't an extravagant practice, but it was theirs and she treasured the day still. Even as she grew older, finished her education, started a career and went through her own fair share of experiences (both good and bad), their annual tradition still stood...until the time that it didn't.

Their whole lives were upheaved to King's Landing when her father contracted cancer – as much as they loved their little island, the treatment at the capital was far more advanced. She was given compassionate leave from her job, in order to accompany and support him in any way she could. Test after test he had, treatment after treatment, month after month, until they were finally told that it was all for naught – nothing they could do could cure Selwyn Tarth, for it was far too late. 

He was advised to stay at the capital's most prestigious hospital in order to receive the medication that would keep him comfortable in his final weeks, which unfortunately meant they would not be home for The Hallowed Day. As Brienne was granted to stay at the permitted accommodation, he was determined to try and keep to at least some of their traditions, even if they couldn't couldn't gouge themselves into a food coma. He'd already checked the television guide for the evening, had circled a couple of the good films and asked his daughter to bring a lantern. She disagreed – how on earth could they be celebrating at a time so bleak, when everything was so dark and grim?

“I'm dying Brienne,” he'd stated matter-of-factly. “I have very few pleasures left, the least we could do is celebrate our favourite holiday together...one final time.”

“Dad, don't tal...”

“Please Starlight, please.” She stared into his pleading eyes, eyes that she knew so well and couldn't bear to live without. For what was she supposed to do when the person she loved most, who'd always supported her, always been by her side was there no longer?

“Okay dad,” she agreed. “We'll watch the films.”

“What about the Jaqen Lantern?”

“Not that.”

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I don't know if it's completely sanitary or if it would even be allowed in here. And for another, I don't...” She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to put it into words? “It feels too much like tempting fate.”

“Starlight,” he started, taking her hand in his. She tried not to grip it too tightly – it felt bony in her hold, almost skeletal. “I've accepted my fate and don't bother arguing with me. It's time you accepted it too.”

“But dad, I...” This time, her tears did fall and her father's free hand reached up to sweep them away.

“I know. If I'm honest, I'm not entirely ready myself. This wasn't my first choice y'know,” he joked but realised his daughter was in no laughing mood. “I thought I'd have a fair few years left in me, but I'm afraid this disease had other plans. I just...I want to spend what little time I have left with my little girl.” 

And how could she argue with that? She still didn't give into the lantern but they'd watched a movie and a half, before Selwyn fell asleep from exhaustion – he was always more tired this close to the end, which came just a few weeks later. She transported his body back to their homeland, to lay him to rest alongside the rest of their family. She was now the only person left that bore the name Tarth.

* * *

Brienne's heart ached just from being on her island, for what did she now have there really? Everyone she had cared about and who cared about her in return was gone. What was left for her on Tarth? But at the same time, she didn't want to cut ties completely – it was her home after all. There was but one conclusion left. She decided to rent out her home and for the time being, move to King's Landing. 

She didn't know how long she'd be away or how long it would take her to recover. She supposed she'd go back eventually but for now, King's Landing felt as good place as any. True enough, it's where she'd spent the last excruciatingly painful months of her life and where her father had died but if she was being completely honest, she'd not seen much of the city, having spent the majority of the time cooped up in the hospital. With how big the capital was, she could easily avoid the small part she'd become familiar with so as not to come into contact with it at all. 

Her place of work had highly recommended her to Stark Publishing – a widely popular company ran by an old, well respected Westerosi family, the Starks, who'd ran their business over a great many years and had numerous branches dotted around the country: Winterfell (where the household name had originated), Riverrun, the Eyrie and of course King's Landing were just to name a few of the more popular offices. So she had a job, she'd rented a small apartment and it was easy enough to put the possessions she wasn't taking with her into storage while others lived in her childhood home, so she could uproot her whole life.

It was here that she met Jaime Lannister, first-born son of money mogul and owner of Lannister Investments Ltd, Tywin Lannister. Although Jaime was actually the middle child of the well-known tycoon, Tywin was still of the belief that heirs only passed down to the eldest son, nevermind that his eldest child – Cersei, a daughter – should have been entitled and was eager to take on the family business, much more than her twin brother. And Tyrion – the youngest – he was more out of the equation than Cersei was. But as much as Tywin wanted to pass on the business to Jaime, Jaime didn't care one bit for it and got disowned as punishment. 

As a last hurrah, he went even further to disobey his father and got hired by the Starks, who'd had a long-standing feud with the Lannisters since the dawn of time. Though they had their reservations about hiring Jaime, what with their general dislike of his family and a set of problems that was attached to him personally, they decided to take a chance on him. Mostly it was down to the fact that they also wanted to give Tywin the middle finger and what better way to do it? 

Jaime had been working at the King's Landing branch for over a year by the time Brienne arrived and they certainly got off on the wrong foot from the get go. They butted heads immediately and for the first couple of months, it looked like they would never get along. An incident however that resulted in Jaime saving Brienne from being gang-raped and having nerves damaged in his right hand by her would-be attackers for his interference saw their 'relationship' take a different turn. He was informed by specialists that with a lot of hard work and physiotherapy, he may get some form of use in his hand again, even if it would never fully be the same. Brienne of course jumped at the chance to help as much as she could and what started off as just repaying a debt turned into a long-term friendship.

* * *

A few days before The Hallowed Day saw the employees of Stark Publishing in more of a cheery disposition than usual. It was of course not a draining place to work, not by a long shot, but the mood changed to that of a lighter tone, one that was usually only brought about by an impending holiday or occasion. The Starks would always encourage their employees to decorate, make plans and just generally enjoy themselves for such occasions, wanting their workplaces to stay as healthy and happy ones. Brienne had just logged off for the day, making her way toward the exit, when she heard a familiar voice shout to her from down the corridor.

“Hey wench, wait up!” 

The ridiculous nickname had been something of a frustration for Brienne since she started working at the company – Jaime found every excuse to call her it after he found one of the hopeful manuscripts sitting on her desk, a few weeks after her arrival, that of a particularly bad pirate adventure-erotica, which she of course was not going to take a second look at (they weren't that type of publishing company) and promptly threw it in the confidential waste bag, The damage was already done however and Jaime found it highly amusing, taking every pleasure in the beginning by quoting some of the cringe-worthy lines now and again, in order to see how red her blushes would grow. Wench was another consequence of that little disaster and unlike the quoting, wasn't likely to be disappearing anytime soon apparently.

“Could you not be normal and call me by my actual name for a change?”

“Ah what's the fun in that, wench?” he asked, with that Cheshire cat grin on his face. “It defines our friendship!”

“I'm not quite sure I would completely agree.”

“Sure it does, don't be such a stick in the mud! All good friends have nicknames for one another.” She smiles at that, along with the slightest of blushes brightening her cheeks. “You can choose a nickname for me if you want.”

“Oh I have a few choice names I'd like to call you...” she retorted jokingly and he barked that devilish laugh of his – the one which made her insides twist and turn of their own accord – threw his arm over her should and elbowed the door open so they could make their way down the street to the car park.

“Cheeky! Anyway, are you staying on for the buffet-thing in the office and then going out for drinks on Friday, y'know, for the The Hallowed Day celebrations.

“No. I've actually got the day off on Friday, so didn't think there was much point in coming in just for that.”

“I'm sure you could join us afterwards. C'mon, it'll be fun,” he pleaded.

“No that's okay, maybe next year,” she said quietly.

“So, you already have plans?” he prodded, trying to get more of a response out of her. “Or not a fan of The Hallowed Day?”

“Actually it's my favourite holiday, but no plans this year.” She waited a beat before deciding to continue. “It was something me and my dad celebrated together every year and this year...well, it's the first without him...” 

Jaime wanted to kick himself, because of course he would put his big foot in his even bigger mouth somehow.

“Oh Brienne.” She startled at the use of her first name, as he'd hardly used it since they'd known one another. “I'm so sorry, I didn't realise.”

“It's okay, you weren't to know. It was always a favourite of ours, even when I was very small,” she declared, feeling better than she thought by actually telling someone of the Tarth family traditions. “Carving Jaqen Lanterns, dressing up, the whole ten yards. Even after mum and baby Arriane died and then Galladon a few years later, we still celebrated, but the lanterns were then carved more in their memory instead and we'd always take a trip to the cemetery and lay them at their gravesides. Then when evening came, we'd buy all sorts of snacks and food and just pig out in front of the telly, having a horror movie marathon.” She smiled sadly in reminiscence. “It wasn't much, but it was ours.”

“Sounds as good as tradition as any, wench,” Jaime agreed, squeezing her arm in comfort.

“Dad would never allow me the day off school, so we'd always carve the lanterns the night before and then he'd pick me up after I'd finish the next day and we'd go straight to the cemetery while it was still light. Once I went to university, I'd go home for a couple of days because I couldn't bear for him to be on his own for the holiday – it was still in the Stormlands, so not far to travel. Then when I graduated and got a job back home, I'd always take the day off. Always.”

They reached her car and she turned to face him, his arm falling from her shoulder as she did so. He was slightly surprised to see tears in her eyes – he got the impression that she found it difficult to express her feelings or open up. She'd never talked this much about her family before and he imagined it hard, especially when her father's death was still so raw and she was the only one left in her family. He wanted to cup her cheek and wipe away the tears that were on the cusp of falling from her eyes but wasn't sure how she'd react; it surprised him that she'd let him walk her all the way to her car without shrugging off his arm.

“Last year wasn't much of a celebration,” she continued. “He was already in the hospital and so ill. It was the one year I was ready to give it a miss, but he managed to wangle around it and we watched a couple of films.”

“He played the 'sick dad' card on you, huh?” he joked and she managed a whisper of a laugh in return.

“He did that. Now that he's gone though, there's not much to celebrate any more, so I'm just going to give it a miss. I can't...I just can't bring myself to do anything.”

“That's understandable,” he responded, risking reaching out and squeezing her arm again briefly, before letting go before he weirded her out. He chose his next words carefully, not wanting to overstep his mark. “Don't you think it would be nice though, to still carve the lanterns at least?”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “It's too much, I just can't.”

“But you said you always did it for the rest of your family to remember them. That's what The Hallowed Day is really about, right? Remembering those that've been lost?”

“Well yes, but...”

“So wouldn't the right thing to do, be to continue the tradition?” Still she shook her head no. “I know it hurts, but think how your dad would feel if you didn't do it this year. For them. For him.”

“The answer is no!” she snapped. “I'm sorry but I can't and that's final.” She turned to unlock her car and open the door, stepping inside quickly. “I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Jaime.” With that, she shut the door quickly, ending the conversation before Jaime could find a loophole.

“Good night, Brienne,” he whispered into the night, as she started the engine and drove off, before walking to his own vehicle while the cogs in his brain turned. He most certainly didn't want to leave the subject there.

* * *

Thursday came around in a flash and before she knew it, she was logging off her computer for her long weekend. She left her desk to put her dishes in the dishwasher and water the plants and by the time she came back to collect her bag and coat, there was something there that certainly wasn't there before: a pumpkin. A small pumpkin, but a pumpkin none the less, along with a piece of paper. She picked the sheet up and snorted at the contents. It looked like a poorly put-together invitation of sorts, with a clip-art image of a scroll, stretched out to fill the majority of the page and another small image at the bottom of the right-hand side of a simple smiling Jaqen Lantern. In the middle of the scroll was the following text:

> To the Lady ~~Wench~~ Brienne,
> 
> Your presence is required on this fine eve  
>  At the house of Jaime Lannister.  
>  Do not fret, food and drink will be provided  
>  In the form of your favourite cuisine and wine  
>  So head over straight after work.  
>  Just bring Podrick the Pumpkin with you  
>  And all will be revealed.  
>  Don't be too long  
>  Or all the food will be eaten.
> 
> J
> 
> P.S. If you do want to stop off at Lommy's General Store  
>  And buy a chocolate orange or two  
>  It would be much appreciated.

“Such a dramatic,” she muttered but despite herself, she smiled. She folded the invitation, placed it in her bag, picked up her belongings and Podrick and went on her way.

Half an hour later, she arrived at Jaime's building and made her way to the very top floor, where he of course lived in the penthouse apartment. Tywin Lannister may have disowned him, but Joanna Lannister left him a large sum of money in a savers account that he was allowed to access at age one-and-twenty. Tywin had in fact also set up a trust fund from when Jaime was born, paying into it every so often up until Jaime went his separate way – Jaime had enough sense to wrangle around the clauses and transferred the funds the day before he left the fold to his savings. Tywin may have closed the trust fund down as soon as he could, but not soon enough and along with his new job, Jaime still had the last hurrah. He was nowhere near as rich as his father, but enough to be comfortable for a long time (providing he didn't piss it all away). 

After two swift knocks, the door opened to Jaime's jubilant cries.

“Wench, so glad you could make it!”

“Well the invite was hard to say no to,” she teased and held out her offering. “As requested, Your Highness.”

“The chocolate oranges! Thank you kindly m'lady, please enter.” She playfully shoved him as he mock bowed, passing by him into his home. She dropped her possessions neatly onto the sofa, toed off her shoes, and made her way to the kitchen to dump the pumpkin. On the counter she found three other pumpkins already sitting there.

“Hey, what's going on here? You starting a pumpkin farm that I don't know about?”

“Not quite,” he chuckled. “ I wanted to surprise you! We're gonna do us some carving this evening, my dear wench.” 

Brienne huffed in slight frustration. “Jaime...” she started but didn't get much further.

“No buts! We're gonna have a nice evening carving lanterns. We've got takeout from your favourite Meereenese place, your favourite Dornish wine and those aren't even the best parts! Take a look in that envelope there.” He pointed to the small envelope that was positioned between two of the pumpkins, which she took and opened quickly, pulling out the contents.

“Jaime, these are two ferry tickets to Tarth...”

“For tomorrow morning, that's right,” he finished, with the biggest grin on his face, like he'd just earned a Westerosi Prize. He watched as she pieced the puzzle together - the way her scowl grew into genuine anger however was not what he had secretly hoped for but what he had expected.

“How dare you!” she shouted. “I specifically told you I didn't want to do this and you went against my wishes anyway. I'm leaving!” She turned to pick up her things and storm out in a rage, however his hand gently grabbing on hers prevented her from doing so.

“Brienne, please, I'm just trying to help...”

“You're interfering!”

“Please can I just say my piece?” She glared at him but eventually gave him a stiff nod. “I'm not trying to do this to upset you or force you to do anything that you don't want to do. Ultimately, I want this to be your decision and if you decide that you definitely that you don't want to do this, then I won't keep bothering you.

“But this is your tradition Brienne. I didn't know your dad, but from the way you've talked about him, I know he'd want you to carry on with it, to remember him in the same way as the rest of your family.”

“But it still hurts Jaime! I don't know if I can bring myself to go back there.” she cried, finally letting a few of those tears that she tried so hard to keep at bay fall and swiping them away just as quickly as they appeared. “Do you know I haven't been back to the cemetery since dad's funeral?” Jaime shook his head.”In the early days after mum and Arianne died, then Galladon too, me and dad made the effort to go and visit every other month, then after a while we kept it just holidays and birthdays.

“Moving here has obviously made it more difficult to go...but I didn't even go on his birthday.” She cast her gaze to her feet, slightly ashamed of herself. She knows what few friends she had now wouldn't think any different of her, but to her, her traditions were like her word and she liked to keep to both. Not keeping to them felt like a personal let down, like a disgrace.

“So why don't you just go, keep the Tarth tradition alive?”

“Because going would be like facing the fact that I'm completely alone now, that I'm the only Tarth!” she wailed in anguish, making Jaime jump slightly. “I know I've said my goodbyes to each of them, but they're altogether now and I'm just me.” Now it all made sense to Jaime and his heart broke for her. He took her free hand now, holding both in the most tender grip he could muster.

“You may be the only Tarth left Brienne, but you're certainly not on your own. You have a new life here now and you have friends that care about you. You have the whole of the Starks, you have Pod.” The junior copyright that Jaime had fondly named the pumpkin after, who seemed to idolise Brienne to no end. “You have Ygritte and Yara and don't forget Hot Pie at the coffee shop. You have me Brienne, me, and you're not getting rid of me...of us that easily.” She let out a shaky huff of laughter and let a few more tears fall, not swiping them away this time for fear of letting go of her friend's hand, of loosing this connection.

“Who's the second ticket for?”

“Me silly! I've taken the day off tomorrow so I can go with you. We've got a nice early start so we can lay the lanterns in the morning, then we can spend the best part of the day there before heading back.”

“Why did you do this for me Jaime?”

“Because I could tell, that even though you were hurting, how much this meant to you. And like I've already mentioned, I'm you're friend and this is what friends do.” He felt her fingers tighten around his and watched her face soften, knowing that she had made her decision.

“Okay, let's do it. Let's carve the lanterns and go to Tarth tomorrow.” Jaime gave her a wide smile of appreciation and she let go of his hands, turned around, put the ferry tickets back into the envelope and pulled a pumpkin in front of her. They spent the next couple of hours carving and decorating the lanterns (Jaime, still not having a firm enough grip, kept to the scooping side of things), eating and enjoying one another's company, keeping the mood as light as possible.

* * *

Bright and early the next morning, Jaime picked Brienne up at her small apartment and drove to the dock to meet the ferry. Although the wind was sharp, the sky was clear and the waves were calm and it took the standard hour and a half to get from King's Landing to the little island of Tarth. The familiarity of returning to the place she called home for the majority of her life was almost like a breath of fresh air, if her stomach hadn't been mostly full of dread and anxiety with what she had to do. There was a slight relief that she had someone with her, that she didn't have to go through this ordeal completely alone, but she knew she wouldn't fully appreciate the gesture until their mission was accomplished. So while they drove from the dock to the cemetery, they sat in stone silence and she felt like she held her breath the entire time. She knew this day would come eventually, but that didn't mean that she'd ever be prepared for it, to visit her entire family in the same vicinity, where she could talk to them but they couldn't talk back to her. Soon enough, they came to a silent stop outside of the cemetery gates but she couldn't move.

“We're here,” Jaime started as he turned to face her, his voice breaking the silence making her startle. She nodded in agreement but still didn't move a muscle. “Shall we go in?” Still she just sat there. “Okay, we can go when you're ready.”

“And what if I'm not?” she asked finally.

“Then I guess we be better get comfy,” he joked, but he knew that in all seriousness, he'd sit there until the end of time if she asked him to.

They sat there for another full ten minutes before she finally opened the door and stepped out of the car, grabbing two of the pumpkins from the back seat. Jaime did the same and off they strolled, through the gates and down the winding paths, passing stone after stone, mausoleums and a crypt, before finally stopping at their destination. Jaime turned to Brienne, giving her a reassuring look before she nodded and stepped onto the grass in front of her family's graves. She placed a lantern first on Arianne's grave, then her mother's, before turning to take one off Jaime for Galladon's and finally the other for her father's.

“Are you okay?” Jaime asked quietly as Brienne straightened up and nodded.

“I'm fine. Would you...would it be okay if you gave me a minute? I'd just...I'd like to...”

“You want to talk to them?”

“I do,” she responded, her cheeks tingeing slightly redder than the cold air autumn air had already made them and a small, bashful look on her face. “You don't think that's silly, do you?”

“Not at all,” he reassured her, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I'll just be right over there, take as long as you need.” She murmured her thanks and he headed back onto the path, next to an old oak tree, giving her the privacy she needed. She turned back to her family and crouched to the same level as the headstones, took a deep breath and cleared her throat. 

“Hi. Happy Hallowed Day,” she began timidly. “I've brought your lanterns – my friend Jaime helped me, he's just over there, waiting for me. He surprised me with them yesterday actually, we spent the evening carving them.” She stopped, took another, more staggered breath and continued. 

“I...I wasn't actually going to come today.” She looked down to the grass, ashamed that she'd even considered not carrying on the family tradition. “I wasn't going to carve the pumpkins, I was going to miss it all...because I thought it would be too difficult...too painful to endure on my own.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she inwardly begged them not to fall, knowing she wouldn't stop if she started. She looked back toward the stones, reaching out a hand to lightly touch her father's, her thumb slightly grazing over the letters of his name.

“I know it's never easy coming here, seeing you all. But without you, dad, it felt like the pain was too great to bare. I know that's selfish and cowardly and not like me to break a promise, but I didn't know how to get through it. I think that's why I haven't been to visit before now...well that and that I now live in King's Landing – don't worry dad, I didn't sell the house, just renting it until I'm ready to come back. But I think that's just another excuse, I could have still ferried over on your birthday and I'm sorry I didn't daddy, I'm so sorry.

“Jaime knew though, I think he knew I'd come to regret it more if I didn't come today. So he talked me into it, he's quite stubborn in that way.” She smiled fondly and then wondered for a moment what her family would have thought of him. 

“I think you'd all like him. He was a pain in the behind when we first met, but now...now he's a friend, my best friend. Nothing more than that Gal, so don't worry, you wouldn't have had to get all big brother on him – not that you would have needed to, I can take care of myself you know.” Her smile turned to a sad one, both for her family never having the chance to meet someone who meant so much to her and for trying to fool herself that she only thought of Jaime as a friend. She knew she cared for him more than that but knew he'd never return her feelings, so she always kept quiet.

“Dad, I know you worried about me, that I didn't have very many people in my life when it was just the two of us, but you were my world and I preferred it that way. When you...when it was just me, I didn't know how to get passed that, but it's no longer just me now. I have friends, I'm doing better and you don't need to worry about me because I'm going to be just fine. You just rest now, you deserve it, rest easy with our family.

“I love you all, so very much and I'm glad you've got each other now. I wish you were here, with me, but I know we'll be together again some day. I'll come back and visit again soon and I promise I won't take as long this time.” She stood up, taking the time to stretch her legs after crouching for so long. She took one last, long look, delicately ran her hand over the top of each of the stone and whispered her goodbyes before finally joining Jaime back on the path.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, it's fine,” she replied and for the first time in a while, she actually meant it. “I'm going to be fine.”

* * *

After leaving the cemetery, they both took their time to wander around Tarth, Brienne showing Jaime all of her favourite places: the dock where her dad used to work before he got sick, the secluded spot on the beach where she'd spend a lot of her time thinking, the little independent publishing office she used to work for and the quirky pub she used to frequent, where they stopped to have, what Jaime thought, was the best fish and chips he'd ever tasted. They even made a stop outside her house, just for a moment – everything felt so nostalgic to Brienne and she wished, for just a minute, to go inside. She knew she'd be back when the time was right however, that it wasn't completely goodbye. Before they knew it, hours had passed and they were boarding the ferry once more to go the back to the city.

“Wow, what a day. I feel like I've been awake for an eternity,” Brienne groaned, trying to stifle a yawn behind her hand but not succeeding.

“Well don't fall asleep on me yet, wench, the day's not over!”

“Huh?”

“I hope you didn't think I was going to drop you back at your house and let you spend the evening of your favourite holiday alone?”

“Oh Jaime, you don't need to go too any more trouble. You've done far too much today for me and...”

“Nonsense wench, I've got a couple of other surprises up my sleeve yet.”

“Jaime...”

“Please, Brienne,” he interrupted, his serious tone making her halt and her eyes soften as he continued. “This day was and is supposed to be about you. I wanted to be there for you, while you went through something so difficult and the rest of the day has been dedicated to making you feel better. So like I said, it's not over yet.”

“You're not going to force me to go to some ridiculously crowded party are you?”

“Don't be ridiculous! What kind of sadist do you think I am?” Her eyebrow raised as she gave him a knowing look. “Okay, I know I have made some ridiculous suggestions in the past, but I wouldn't make you do something so uncomfortable, not today. I have something much better in mind.”

* * *

They arrived back at his penthouse around early evening, just as the sky was starting to darken and Jaime headed straight for the kitchen, throwing his jacket on a nearby chair as he passed. Brienne snorted.

“What?” he asked in amusement. “It's not as if I live in squalor.”

“It's more of you rushing through there like a bat out of the seven hells, not even stopping to hang up your jacket for goodness sake. What's the rush?”

“Time stops for no-one wench, it is of the essence. Now chop, chop, we're going to be in here for a while.”

“Why, not doing more carving are we?” she joked as she entered the kitchen, just as he was exiting the storage cupboard with several large bags, dumping them dramatically onto the counter and his hands already diving into the biggest.

“Well funny you should say that,” he retorted, pulling out a very large pumpkin with one of those Jamie Lannister grins plastered on his face.

“Really, Jaime, another one? What on earth is this one for?”

“This one's just for fun – you didn't think I'd let you get away without carving one on The Hallowed Day itself did you? Besides, I've never made this many Jaqen Lanterns before, I was never allowed to as a kid.”

“Really? Never?!” she asked, aghast and he laughed sardonically. 

“Tywin Lannister would never allow his children to do something so peasantry.”

“That's so sad.”

“Yeah, well, the past is in the past. Come on wench, let's get cracking!” And so they did, but not before he went back to the bag and pulled out two sets of costume ears. 

“What are those?”

“These, wench, are our costumes. I knew you wouldn't go for full on dress-up, so thought these were the next best thing. Lion for me, as I am – much to my father's dismay - of course a Lannister.” He put them on top of his perfectly blonde and bouncy hair and made a ridiculous lion pose. “Bear for you, as I know they're your favourite animal and these were too adorable to pass up.” He carefully placed them on her head and stood back to look at his handiwork. “There, very cute!”

“Pfft,” she scoffed as her cheeks started to burn.

“I'm serious, they are, I have very good taste. Now, smile!” Before she knew it, he whipped out his phone, threw his arm around her shoulder and she had a split second to smile. He then spent several minutes making her pull stupid faces and poses, but it was the most fun she'd had in a long time.

Considering the size of the pumpkin, Jaime wanted to go into more detail and decided they would combine their ancient sigils – a sun from hers and a lion from his. Of course, he thought it would be more fun to make it a cartoon lion and give the sun a pair of sunglasses and a smiley face.

“Couldn't have got a bigger pumpkin could you? It's almost the same size of that oversized head of yours,” she joked, poking fun at his overly large ego.

“Well they tell me size matters, wench,” and he laughed manically as her cheeks went impossibly redder. After an hour or so, they gazed upon their creation with pride – sure it wasn't the most artistic, but it was the fun they'd had while doing it that Brienne felt her heart swell at everything Jaime had done for her, the amount of effort he'd gone to make the day go as smoothly and easy possible.

“It is a wonder to behold, wench, one that is InstaRaven worthy for sure,” he beamed and she rolled her eyes fondly at him. “Now, next order of business!”

“There's more?”

“Of course!” He made his way over to the rest of the bags, picking them up and made his way to the living room. He emptied one onto the coffee table, covering the surface with sweets, chocolate, popcorn and crisps. He dug into the second bag and pulled out a bundle of DVDs. “It's horror movie time!” He turned toward Brienne and was alarmed to find her bottom lip wobbling and tears filling her eyes again.

“Brienne...” he started, about to make his way to her side but she beat him to it and tenderly put her arms around him in a warm embrace, tightening her hold when she became more comfortable. He hugged her in return, trying to put as much emotion into it as possible, to express how he felt for her. She pulled away and he swiped away a few stray tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Thank you, Jamie, for all of this. It's been..I...thank you,” and she pulled him into her arms again.

“You're more than welcome wench,” he mumbled into her hair, stroking his hands up and down her back. “Now come on, lets get this show on the road.” He reluctantly let her go and took the first DVD out of it's case, placing it in the player as she settled on the sofa with a bag of popcorn. 

“Wait, the lantern!” He ran out of the room, returning a few seconds later with the pumpkin, a candle and a lighter. He moved some of the junk food around to make room for the lantern on the table and placed it the middle, lighting the candle and popping it inside. He turned the living room light off, the pumpkin and television lighting the room in a perfect glow. He sat next to her, turned to say something funny but his voice caught in his throat – the glow of the lantern reflected in her eyes, making them more fierce, more beautiful, her most striking feature.

“Are we starting?” He looked at her for a moment, dumbstruck and then realised that she meant the film as she nodded toward the television.

“Of...of course,” and with one last glance at her, he pressed play and turned toward the screen instead. 

'Gods her eyes are gorgeous' he thought inwardly and promised himself that soon, he would tell her as much. Soon.

**Author's Note:**

> So what did y'all think? Kudos, comments and constructive criticism are all welcome.
> 
> FYI Westerosi Prize is the equivalent of our Nobel Prize.


End file.
